A Heart Torn in Two
by Mossnose
Summary: Every year since then, Prussia and Germany would meet up and drink as much beer as they could, all while reminising about that fateful day. Rated T for mild language.


A/N: In honor of the 20th anniversary of this event, I decided to write this. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**A Heart Torn in Two**

He was late.

Germany couldn't help but pace as he waited. He was never late for this; not on this day that was so important to them. Every year they did this, but why wasn't he here this time? He'd tried calling Austria, but he had taken Hungary out to dinner and hadn't come back yet.

Where was his brother?

Prussia had always had to arrive fashionably late, but never today. This was the one day where he'd always be right on time. The blond couldn't help but worry. What if something bad happened to him? Nineteen years straight he'd been here right on schedule; why not today?

He couldn't relax until the second he heard the familiar banging on his front door.

As soon as he heard it, his worry changed to annoyance. What had kept him? He opened the door ready to scold his older brother until he caught sight of it. As soon as he saw it, anything he could've said slipped away from him.

"What happened?" was all he managed to say.

Prussia rolled his eyes as his red gaze met his brother's blue. "Really, West; I show up here and the first thing you say is 'what happened'? No 'hello', no 'how are you'? I'm disappointed," he said in a tone of mock hurtfulness.

"That's not important! You're late!" he finally scolded. "And you show up at my doorstep with a black eye and expect me not to be worried?!"

"Oh, that. I ran into Russia on my way over; he said he wanted to 'chat'. I'm lucky I got away from that damn psycho with just this," he answered, indicating his injured eye.

"I have some ice if you need it."

"No; I'll be fine. It looks a lot worse than it is. Besides, it takes a lot more than this to stop the awesome me!" the albino answered as he entered (without wiping the mud off his boots, greatly annoying his neat-freak of a little brother). As expected, he went straight for the fridge and got some beer for both of them.

This day was an important day for both of them; they'd have a few beers together and celebrate the fact that they were together again.

"Hey West, remember when we met for the first time?"

"How could I forget that?"

* * *

Prussia sighed as he looked across the battlefield littered with corpses and blood. That France may have been a prick but he could be downright dangerous when he actually tried. His job was to go over the area a few times and search for survivors. So far, his search had been pointless. It wasn't like he was going to find anyone still alive in a place like this that reeked of death, especially so soon after the French Revolution ended.

Well, there was no point in spending any more time here. He was just about to leave when he felt a small tug on his cloak. _Probably just a twig_, he thought. He pulled a bit harder, trying to get loose, but whatever it was that had a hold on him just tugged harder. Annoyed, he tugged even harder, but he still got tugged back.

Finally, he pulled as hard as he could. Whatever it was moved forwards along with him, but it still didn't let go. Prussia was about to pull again when he heard a tiny yelp. Last time he checked, branches didn't yelp. Curious, he finally turned to see what it was. Needless to say, he was surprised.

A little kid had gotten a hold on him and refused to let go. His blond hair was messed up, and his blue eyes looked a bit red, as if he had been crying. His clothes were torn beyond repair; he'd apparently been there for a while. Any rage that Prussia had cooled down as he looked at this kid. He almost looked like… nah, it couldn't be.

"What's a kid like you doing out here? It's dangerous," he scolded.

"I… don't know," he mumbled.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" How could someone not know why they were somewhere?

"I don't remember. I just woke up out here, and I hurt all over," he whimpered.

Did someone attack him? How had he gotten here? Those kinds of things were what Prussia was trying to figure out. "What's your name?" he asked.

"I don't know!" the kid cried, sobbing. "I'm scared! I don't know what to do or where to go!"

"Hey, stop crying like a little girl! Can you remember anything?" he tried.

He sniffled, brushing away the last of his tears. "Just that I need to be somewhere; I don't know where or why."

Prussia didn't know what to do. He couldn't just leave this kid here. But he really wasn't interested in babysitting. What to do… Eventually, he gave in to his conscience.

"You can stay with me for a while," he decided. "But just until you remember where you need to be, okay? After that, you're out."

"Really? Thanks! You won't regret it, sir!"

"You'd better hope I don't… And you can just call me Prussia."

* * *

"And I've never regretted it once. You're a good kid, West!"

"You saved my life, so I felt like I owed you," Germany answered simply, gulping down his beer.

"And I always looked out for you. You probably wouldn't have lasted three days on your own! Of course I had to stick around!"

"There was a time when I couldn't imagine what it would be like without you. Even if you did come into my house uninvited, track mud all over the place and drink my beer."

"Yeah, well, that's just how I am. Specs is always complaining too, but I don't mind. This trick is not to care!" Prussia announced as he loudly finished off his drink and picked up another one.

"Then the Second World War ended…"

* * *

"So what are we going to do with them?"

"They need to be punished as badly as they deserve!"

"Japan's been punished enough, what with the bombing and having to make a public apology to Canada, and Italy betrayed Germany in the end. That just leaves these two…"

Germany tried to spot his brunette friend, but Italy wasn't even looking at him. He obviously didn't want to be here. He looked upset, and his eyes were red from tears. The Allies and Romano just looked tired, but not upset in the least. He knew they were relishing in their victory. Germany didn't blame the small Italian for what he had done; he was just trying to help Romano.

He was ready to accept any punishment they gave him. It was his fault, after all. But why did Prussia have to be punished?

"I think I have an idea," Russia said from his position, his trademark smile unnerving those around him. No body was intending to tell him off.

"How about we split them up?" Germany noticeably stiffened up. He caught a glimpse of Italy out of the corner of his eye, and saw a look of absolute horror directed at Russia.

"I'll take Prussia, and you all can have Germany. That's a fair deal, da?" Germany wanted to scream; he wanted to yell at Russia until his throat was hoarse. He'd take any punishment except that; there was no way he was going to leave his brother with that nutcase!

"Russia, we're not doing that. The agreement was that you were to take your troops out of the countries that you invaded," England retorted.

"Now that I've had time to think about it, I don't think I will. Poland is so nice this time of year!" he laughed.

"You're nothing but a lousy traitor!" America snapped.

"America, calm down. Snapping at him won't help…" Canada tried to help his brother settle down, but it just wasn't working.

All while the two argued, Germany just sat there, hoping that Russia would fail.

* * *

A few years passed. The argument had gotten worse over time, and Germany and Prussia were right in the middle of it. Russia was trying to get the rest of the Allies (except for China) to take their troops out of Germany's house, but they always refused. Prussia sent a lot of his people over to his little brother, hoping that it would help them.

Then the wall went up.

It was big and it was ugly-looking. Prussia hated every single stone in it. He hated how it went right down the middle of Berlin. He hated how having it there made it feel like his heart was ripped into two pieces.

But what he hated the most was that it separated him from his brother.

* * *

Years passed after that. Italy had gotten over the guilt and went over to Germany's house every day to try and comfort him. He knew what it was like to be a divided nation. And now Korea and Vietnam felt the same way. He knew better than to tell him that it would be alright; that hadn't helped when Hungary had said it to him. She was on the other side of the fence that served as an extension of that ugly wall, separated from Austria.

Germany had never felt so miserable before. At least Italy was there, trying to help. It was better having someone around that could understand him. The sudden banging on his door startled him out of his thoughts.

"West, it's me! Open up, damn it!"

Germany practically flew out of his seat to get to the door. He opened it, yanked his brother in, and shut it quickly. "How…?" he tried to ask, but the words caught in his throat.

"You can thank Czech and Slovakia for that one. They let me sneak out along the border," he panted.

"Why did you want to come here so badly?" he managed to ask.

"I can't take it," he whimpered. Germany was shocked; his brother had never whimpered before. "That Russia… I swear that bastard's trying to kill me!" Prussia was so thin; he looked like he hadn't eaten a decent meal in years. "I just had to get out for a while. But I can't stay here for too long; my people need me around."

"I've just finished making some pasta; you can have some before you go, Prussia!" Italy decided.

"Thanks; I owe you."

After a quick meal and a beer, Prussia had to go. "If I'm gone for too long, Russia will get suspicious. Someday I'm going to hit that bastard so hard his damn grandkids are going to feel it!"

"When you get back, can you tell Hungary that Austria misses her?" Germany asked.

"Sure, why not? Hey, don't look so sad," he encouraged. "This'll all be over someday; I bet my life on it!"

* * *

More years passed, but they seemed like centuries. Prussia bore the pain as well as he could. He wouldn't let Russia have the satisfaction of seeing him beaten down. He ached all over from the hits he took, and his stomach hurt from being empty for so long. Still he glared at Russia every chance he got, even when he got out that pipe of his.

The resounding footsteps alerted Prussia to the larger man's approach. He turned around; he never wanted to have his back on Russia. That would just make things too easy for him. Russia didn't even bother knocking as he entered the smaller man's room. That was when he noticed it.

Russia wasn't smiling.

He looked downright miserable. He didn't seem nearly as intimidating as he usually did, mostly because he was still crying. Maybe, if Russia was like this, he could make a break for it while he was distracted.

"You can go."

He certainly wasn't expecting that. "What?"

"You heard me. Just go. My boss said you can go, and I know you want to see your brother. The wall's being torn down at this moment. I'll be gone by tomorrow," he sighed.

Prussia quickly overcame his shock to run past Russia out to the wall. Just like he said, people were going at it, taking it down piece by piece. Prussia used the strength he had left to start tearing at the wall.

"West! Can you hear me?!" he called. "I'm coming!"

Too many people were shouting across the wall, and if his brother had answered, Prussia couldn't hear him. The sooner this thing was gone, the better things would be. He and Germany could finally get a beer together, just like old times! He tore at it like an animal, hoping to get it out of his sight. He was making more progress than anyone else; he'd almost gotten through!

Eventually, a tiny hole was made in the wall thanks to him. It wasn't enough; he had to get rid of it! He stuck his chisel in to make it bigger when it hit someone else's chisel from the other side. He caught a quick glimpse of familiar slicked blond hair and dug at the wall even harder.

"Brother! Are you there?" he heard Germany call.

"Yeah! I'm nearly through!" he answered. "Looks like I was right after all! I knew this would end someday!"

"For once, you were right!"

People ran over the remains of the shattered wall to reunite with their loved ones on the opposite side. Prussia practically jumped on his little brother when his chance came. Both of them were crying, but they weren't ashamed.

The pain was gone. They were whole again.

* * *

"I can't believe it's already been twenty years since then."

"Time sure flies after something like that. And every year, we've done this. We just come here and drink as much beer as we can," Prussia pointed out.

"Italy mentioned that he does the same thing with his brother, only they have wine instead of beer."

"They are so deprived! Wine is nothing compared to beer!"

"Hey, they drink what they like, and we drink what we like."

"Hey, West?"

"Hm?"

"I missed you."

"Yeah, I missed you too."

* * *

The next morning, Germany couldn't come into work due to a really bad hangover.


End file.
